


cosmogyral

by chateauofmyheart



Series: queen + rare words [4]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Getting Together, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Male Friendship, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepy Kisses, brian loves space, deaky isn't in this one im sad, i write about these lads sleeping a lot because they desperately need it, its literally just brian nerding out with a side of loving, roger continues to be cute and dumb, smile era but roger lived with freddie by then (according to my research), space appreciation: the fic, the 1969 moon landing, where was freddie? up to you, will brian ever get over how pretty he is? no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 18:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17188226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chateauofmyheart/pseuds/chateauofmyheart
Summary: cosmogyral - whirling round the universe"Roger squinted at the telly. 'What’s happening now?'Brian listened for a second. 'They’re explaining how the Eagle is going to stay on the moon’s surface with the low gravity.' Roger looked, for all intents and purposes, rather uninterested, but he managed a semi-enthusiastic ‘ah’ of understanding. Brian couldn’t comprehend the disinterest, but he didn’t really mind. Roger was just as excited to see the actual landing, and he loved any excuse to spend time together."





	cosmogyral

**Author's Note:**

> i read somewhere (read: an unreliable source) that brian and roger watched the moon landing together in roger's flat and this fic was born!! enjoy 3000 words of me nerding out about space through brian may, an even bigger space nerd 
> 
> (you would not BELIEVE the amount of research i did for this fic. curse me for not being alive in 1969. seeing the moon landing would've been so. cool.)

Brian shoved his hands the pockets of his shorts, rubbing the sixpence between his thumb and forefinger. It jangled faintly against the other coins, more feeling than sound. The heavy late afternoon air hovered around his bare legs and arms, filling the empty pockets of his half-buttoned shirt.

Footsteps, hasty and graceless, sounded unevenly behind the door. Brian looked up as the apartment door swung open to reveal Roger, in his usual mid-July get up of tight trousers and nothing else. His golden hair caught in the sun and Brian resisted the urge to reach out and touch it, but Roger was off-limits much in the same way the stars were.

He could admire him, dream about him, but never touch, for fear of burning up. 

He cleared his throat after a few seconds, waiting for Roger to say something. He’d been staring at the ground, and startled with the faintly impatient noise, those sky blue eyes meeting Brian’s guiltily. He offered a grin, shocking and bright as any star.

“Brian! Took you long enough, mate” he said, as if he hadn’t just zoned out somewhere to the left of Brian’s legs, and stepped back into the narrow hallway to allow Brian in, “telly’s already on, I’ll put the kettle on.”

Brian murmured a ‘thank you’ and tried not to stare at Roger’s glistening back move above those tight dark trousers, hugging his arse and thighs so closely. Why on earth Roger was wearing full length trousers in the summer was beyond him. He’d once told Brian, drunk at some nameless pub, that he didn’t like his legs. The reason was lost in a haze of alcohol and spotting a cute girl making eyes down the bar.

He nearly tripped over the pile of shoes as he tugged his own off, both impressed and annoyed by the sheer number crowding the entrance way. The familiar scent combination of Freddie and Roger hit him as he straightened up, along with the distinct smell of old clothing and cheap wine; the latter he knew permeated from a recent spill on Freddie’s bedroom carpet. 

“Is Freddie out?” he wondered aloud as he entered the cluttered living room, noting the absence of a second presence in the flat. Freddie had a certain magnitude to him; if he wanted, he could have everyone’s eyes on him. Solar systems were created and collapsed around him. Roger made an affirmative noise from the kitchen, saying something about a date Brian really couldn’t bother to pay too careful attention to. Freddie was elusive, like a cat; he showed up whenever he wanted and demanded attention before promptly vanishing again.

Brian pressed a hand to the old sofa arm, before sitting gingerly on the side that didn’t contain a suspicious looking brown velvet jacket spread over it. His legs folded up as he sank down into the worn cushions. It smelled of perfume, and Brian couldn’t decide whether it was one of Freddie’s new ‘experiments’ as he liked to call them, or one of Roger’s conquests’. Either way, it was nice, and flowery without being obnoxious.

On the telly, as promised, was the Apollo 11 broadcast on BBC1. The whole reason he was here. He’d been watching their broadcasts for days, since before the launch, and now it was finally time. This was why he was at college, why he spent hours reading and studying, losing sleep and forgetting to eat. It was all in the pursuit of knowledge, the hope of one day maybe even contributing to achievements like this. Brian was quickly absorbed by the news anchor’s presentation of landing mechanics, despite knowing much of it already.

“God, how many times- you look like an idiot, all cramped there in the corner. You’re allowed to be comfortable, you know.” Roger’s voice drew his attention from the small screen. He stood behind Brian, carrying two mugs and a steaming kettle, which he dumped unceremoniously onto the low coffee table nearby. 

“I know” Brian muttered quietly, watching Roger’s soft stomach scrunch as he bent over to pour the tea. Another quick thanks as he accepted a cup, and then Roger was making room beside him, shoving the old jacket to the floor and stretching out easily. Brian shifted further into the side to avoid a careless arm. 

Roger squinted at the telly. “What’s happening now?”

Brian listened for a second. “They’re explaining how the Eagle is going to stay on the moon’s surface with the low gravity.” Roger looked, for all intents and purposes, rather uninterested, but he managed a semi-enthusiastic ‘ah’ of understanding. Brian couldn’t comprehend the disinterest, but he didn’t really mind. Roger was just as excited to see the actual landing, and he loved any excuse to spend time together.

Settling back into the ratty couch, as much he could, Roger’s intoxicating warmth spreading through the sofa, Brian took a sip of his tea and returned his attention back to the little TV.

 

Hours passed, filled by mission analysis, progress reports, relevant interviews with several members of NASA, various moon-related news bulletins, and other miscellaneous white noise and commercial breaks. Brian was so entranced by the information stream and growing anticipation that only during a short children’s programme around 10 did he notice Roger had fallen asleep and was leaning heavily into his shoulder, knees curled up to his hips and feet tucked into the pillows. He looked so young; it was easy to forget he was barely an adult what with his drinking and sleeping around and general rowdiness. 

Brian’s breath caught at the sight of that beautiful face, relaxed in a way it so rarely was. Those long lashes fanned out over his cheeks, the way his golden hair curled around his face and fanned out across the cushions, the soft smear of his half-open mouth, illuminated only by a yellow floor lamp next by the window. He looked like a painting, like the ones from the Renaissance Freddie so loved to admire. 

Brian pulled his eyes away from where they were tracing his exposed collarbones and let out a breath. Almost a sigh, only to himself. He tried to convince himself that finding his friends beautiful was a harmless, simple thing that happened to everyone, but Brian May was one stubborn fucker, even with himself. This wasn’t just physical appreciation. It was so much deeper, so full of adoration and care and something he didn’t want to name. Without his permission, his eyes wandered back again. 

Brian thought again of the stars and never looking away. Then he remembered the Apollo 11 broadcast and, before losing himself in an analysis of the moon’s rocky surface, made a small mental note to wake Roger for the actual landing.

 

Humming along to a rather clever song about space- by someone he’d never heard of: David something or the other?- Brian looked down to his empty tea cup, debating whether or not to get up and put the kettle on again.

And found himself glancing at Roger. 

He was flush against him, round cheek to bony shoulder, but there seemed to be galaxies between them. So close and yet so unattainable. Brian had already accepted that there would never be anything but deep friendship between them, colored by some unspoken chemistry, but in moments like this it still cut deep. 

Roger was in a whole other orbit- no, he was his own orbit, with his own overwhelming gravitational pull. He was a class A star, rare and brilliant; and one day he would collapse under the weight of his own greatness, but he wouldn’t fade, no, he would implode. A supernova, he would take everyone with him, but it would be so beautiful Brian didn’t think he’d mind.

God, he really was gone, wasn’t he? Or maybe just tired; the ornate and most likely stolen clock on the wall read after one in the morning and Brian had never slept as much during the summer months. The heat and the lack of direction made it easier for his mind to wander off into the cosmos and keep him awake, not to mention the clearer skies leaving more room for telescope observations. And lately, Roger had joined the stars filling his mind.

Brian shook his head and ruffled his curls, tugging at the awkward length covering his ears. His moving arms jostled Roger a little, who let out a tiny snort and frowned. Brian held his breath, not really knowing why, but Roger just buried himself deeper into Brian’s side. 

Brian sat frozen, arms still raised. Slowly, glacially, he placed a careful arm over Roger’s huddled shoulders. When there was no discernible response, he relaxed. His heart took a bit longer to slow down.

 

Anticipation in his throat, Brian leaned forward to see the grainy black and white images of space. Even in such low resolution, it took his breath away. 

The thought of being there, floating in the yawning darkness- an endless ocean dotted with far away sparks of white hot light- and turning back to see the earth, so far behind, was just- indescribable. The overwhelming emptiness of space was unforgettable, and yet- it would be so full of mystery, of possibility. Being out there, so far away from the earth, out in the endless cosmos, exploring and understanding things he couldn’t even imagine; that, if anything, was his dream. God, anything could be out there beyond their solar system. Billions of galaxies and asteroid belts and star nurseries and all the things they hadn’t discovered yet. 

Behind him, Roger shifted down against the cushions; Brian’s moving had caused his head to fall back and become wedged uncomfortably between the cushions and Brian’s back. A quick glance at the telly, and then the time- 3:57, give or take- told Brian he needed to wake him up anyway. He slipped a hand under Roger’s shoulders and propped him up. Roger twisted his face up in sleepy annoyance. Brian nudged him. 

“Roger, Rog, it’s time, they’re about to land. Rog, come on, you can’t miss this, wake up” he murmured urgently. Roger groaned quietly- a sound that had Brian’s heart speeding up like an idiot- and blinked his eyes open. Relief flooded Brian and he turned back to the screen. “Look, look, it’s about to happen!”

The news anchor was providing excited commentary in accompaniment, but Brian could hardly hear it over the pounding in his ears. They were doing it, there would be a man on the moon, maybe one day he could go too, or at least touch the samples collected from the moon- 

“Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.”

They did it.

Brian could’ve sworn he was floating in that very moment. His thoughts were all jumbled, senseless poetry; gravity stopped working, he was somewhere out in the cosmos, looking down at himself in that tiny flat watching the little glowing box; the earth stopped turning to stare, the universe itself gazed in wonder at humanity’s achievement- a moderately intelligent species on a medium sized planet in an unremarkable galaxy had just left the boundaries of its atmosphere and crossed over to a new world. Imagine what the future held. Brian’s head spun with possibilities.

The images on the screen were indecipherable; it was the live feed from the Eagle, black and white and extremely fuzzy. Brian stared, uncomprehending for a moment, before it clicked and everything righted itself. It had been upside down, most likely due to the complications of distance and transfer from the moon surface to the BBC’s broadcasting towers.

Neil Armstrong, in full EVA suit, hesitated at the bottom of the ladder as if he too could not believe the magnitude of what he was about to do. “One small leap for man, one giant leap for mankind” crackled through the room.

Brian leapt up, unable to contain his excitement. A cheer bubbled up before he could stop it; loud, wordless, unbridled elation filled the air and carried his whole body towards the telly. His heart soared. If he had been flying before, this was something new. Thrown out into space with the astronauts, zero gravity weightlessness spinning him past the moon and out into the galaxy.

He twisted around and yanked Roger up, needing a presence to ground him, needing to feel an echoing joy in someone else, needing solidarity. Brian wrapped his arms around him, smile threatening to split his face apart. The familiar warmth, Roger’s bare chest against his half-exposed, soft blond hair tickling his nose, the press of a solid weight along his body; it was anchoring, like planetary gravity.

He pulled back, smile softening. A glimpse of Roger’s face- wide blue eyes no longer sleepy, lips parted slightly, cheeks faintly flushed, glowing golden in the lamplight- had him wondering before his vision was blurred with movement. A small huff of breath on his chin and then soft warmth against his mouth and everything went blank.

His lips felt like they were burning. There was a high-pitched ringing in his ears and he distantly noted the static-filled voices still emanating from the telly. 

Roger stepped back, eyes widening more than Brian thought possible. His gaze fell down to Roger’s lips, dark pink, mouth open temptingly. Roger just stared.

 

The telly voices were low rapidfire in the empty space between them. Brian felt a chill where Roger’s body had been touching his. Neither of them spoke. Brian’s heart beat wildly. He was floating again, dizzying and stomach turning. Roger suddenly seemed so small, dwarfed by his stardom. Their eyes never left each other.

“Why’d you kiss me?” The words suspended between them like planets, the crack in Brian’s voice echoing in his ears.

Roger seemed to blink awake for the second time that night. He looked like he wanted to retreat into himself and hide, but was too tired; the early morning hours and the low lamplight stripping him bare and leaving him exposed. Half a million emotions flitted across that beautiful face.

“You looked so pretty and I couldn’t help myself.” Roger’s voice was quiet, but it seemed a dam had broke because he kept talking, voice growing louder and more frantic. “You always look so fucking pretty when you’re excited about this kind of stuff, and I know I make fun of you for it but I never mean it because you’re such a cute nerd and you care so much and I can usually control myself but then you hugged me and you were so close and I couldn’t help-”

Brian cut him off by grabbing him again and pressing their bodies back together. His stomach flipped and his heart hovered in his chest. Roger stiffened for a moment, then melted into the embrace.

“You’re the pretty one” Brian whispered into his hair once he found his voice again. It seemed so inadequate next to Roger’s lightspeed jumble of reverent affections. He felt Roger shiver under his hands despite the heavy, trapped summer night air and try to pull back, but Brian wouldn’t let him.

“When you fell asleep next to me, I wanted to kiss you so much I forgot about the moon landing.” It was easier to confess when Roger couldn’t look at him. As far as four a.m. confessions went, it wasn’t the worst, though as soon as Brian was more awake he knew he would regret it.

There was nothing but silence. Roger remained motionless in his arms apart from the trembling. Brian’s heart sank a little, nausea rolling in his gut, and he started to let go, but Roger’s arms around him tightened unexpectedly and Brian felt him bury his face into the short curls around his neck.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you smiled at me after that first practice together. You played guitar like no one else and your legs went on for miles and I realized no girl would ever be like you.” It was Brian’s turn to freeze, heart flipping, mostly likely confused by the overwhelming ride it had been forced through. He thought back to that first jam session with Smile all those months ago. He’d thought Roger was beautiful since they’d met, but then again, so had everyone.

He pulled back, feeling hands clench at his sides and letting Roger’s panic-stricken face hover in his vision for only a second before pressing his lips to Roger’s again. The nausea in his stomach settled but remained, as if uncertain as to whether the coast was truly clear.

Roger’s hands tangled up in his hair, lips slotting perfectly, and Brian never wanted to let go. His eyes fluttered open after a moment, breaking the kiss as Roger leaned back and yawned. It made him laugh, and then they both dissolved into helpless giggles. Any panic or anxiety Brian had dissipated with the heave of his shoulders. 

Brian’s eyes were dragged back unwittingly to the telly at the sounds of static tinged chatter. Conflicted, he looked back to Roger, who elbowed him just a bit too hard and made up for it with a fond grin. “You wanna keep watching the broadcast, you huge nerd?” Brian nodded sheepishly. They sat back down on the couch, Roger tucking himself under his arm and getting comfortable. 

The astronauts on the screen leapt around, an surreal grace that belied clumsiness combined aided by low gravity. The moon surface was a magnificent, desolate wonderland. They danced across it like clumsy newborn creatures, learning their new environment with a childish wonder.

Brian imagined being there, like he had before, and that same, familiar happiness filled him. Space was thrilling and gorgeous and breathtaking, mesmerizing otherworldly landscapes surrounded by an ocean of nothingness. He wanted nothing so bad.

But space was so painfully quiet. He thought about the vacuum and the dark matter and his Red Special, strumming uselessly as every note was swallowed by the cold darkness. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, weighed down his soaring chest a little.

Space was beautiful, but maybe Brian liked Earth too. Earth had music and Smile and his family and Roger, had life and warm summer nights and human connection and nature blossoming from every corner. 

Floating endlessly in space seemed just a bit lonelier when he thought about all he’d leave behind. The cosmos was an endless temptation, gravitational like a class O star, and Brian would never forget it- how could he? It was too encompassing, he was reminded every time he looked up- but perhaps there were some earthly comforts he could never truly give up. 

As if to remind him, Roger yawned beside him, trailing off into a satisfied hum. It hit Brian, quite suddenly, that he loved him. He loved him. And by some godforsaken miracle, Roger loved him too. 

The whole night seemed unreal, tinged with an ethereal glow. The likelihood of the universe allowing these events to happen was so slim it was almost unbelievable. Something greater, far out in the cosmos, must’ve happened; the planets aligned, a new star birthed or died, or maybe everything had happened all at once.

The astronauts on the screen reflected Brian’s disbelieving, almost holy, awe. It was all happening. It really was.

 

Freddie stumbled in around nine in the morning, eyes rimmed with black and hair curling with the humidity. Roger greeted him loudly from the couch. Brian mirrored the sentiment, eyes still glued to the little telly, watching in fascination as samples were collected. Littered in front of them was the remains of last night’s tea and some crumbs from the biscuits Roger had dug up for breakfast.

Roger jumped up and joined Freddie in the small kitchen, which sent a tiny, easily dismissed pang of disappointment through Brian’s heart. It was a shame that no one else seemed to care as much about the moon landing, really. It was fascinating beyond anything else.

Muffled voices streamed through the room along with blinding morning sunlight. Brian scooted onto the floor to better hear the comments by the astronauts as they moved containers back to the Eagle. The smell of tea swam through the air and Brian cast a single longing glance behind him.

“What!” An exclamation that could only be Freddie rang from the kitchen a couple minutes later and broke his concentration. Heated discussion and laughter followed. Brian felt little blossom of warmth bubbling in his stomach as he guessed at what they were discussing. An image of Roger’s sleeping face flashed in his mind, followed by the ghost of his hungry lips. Brian let heat curl in his gut for a moment before ignoring it, focus back on the lunar surface.

 

The broadcast ended at 10:30, much to Brian’s disappointment. He knew there was still so much to see, so much he needed to learn. But standing up, he was hit by a wave of dizziness that had him collapsing back into the old sofa. Exhaustion slammed into him like a truck, and he barely had time to shift into a slightly more comfortable position before he passed out. 

He dreamed of playing the Red Special on the moon and hearing each note echo throughout the vastness of space. Roger hit the drums beside him, and Freddie was there too. The earth was a distant audience. Everyone was looking at them through the telly. 

He turned to find someone stood in an EVA suit behind him. Reflected in the helmet was another faceless helmet. The music faded and light filled the surreal sky blinding him. When it faded he was alone, staring up at the billions of stars above him.

 

He awoke to a peaceful warmth surrounding him some hours later. The angle of the sunlight on the wall, reflecting off the antique clock, told him it was afternoon. The scent of tea hung slightly stale in the air like it did a couple hours after it was made. The sofa fabric pressed itchy into his lower back where his shirt had ridden up. Brian stretched out his legs, feet knocking the coffee table as he loosened the taut muscles, and attempted to sit up. An insistent weight on his torso stopped him.

He blinked at the ceiling a couple of times in an attempt to clear his head. Tiny white stars danced across his vision. Still tired, then.

Looking down, he discovered Roger once more comfortably snuggled against his side, fast asleep and gently snoring. On his other side, head in his lap, was Freddie. His makeup wiped away, teeth visible as he breathed softly. Affection filled his chest for the both of them. He loved them both so much- in different ways, but no less than the other. The planets had aligned for them. It was meant to be.

Earthly comforts, he thought to himself, and drifted off again.

**Author's Note:**

> i debated with myself about making this a pining fic or a get together fic, but apparently get together fics are just about the only thing i can write, and sleepy roger was begging me to let him do something reckless so here we are!! thank you once more for the continued support, and any comments are greatly appreciated :)


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